Just A Dream
by Voldemort's Spawn
Summary: Ariadne knows it's wrong, but he loves her and she needs him; this. That's why they met in dreams. Chapter 2 up!
1. Chapter 1

**Just a Dream**

**A/N at the bottom.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

She shouldn't be doing this. It was wrong; wrong for everyone involved, but it's what she wants- no _needs._ She needs this and he knows that. That was why he was doing it. He was doing it because he loved her.

Ariadne looks over at him sheepishly. They're in a made-up hotel room in a dream she created and Dom is sitting on the bed staring back at her, willing her to walk to him with his heated gaze.

She walks slowly to him and he looks her over, taking her in. She's a vision of heaven in nothing but a short silk gown, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, and her cheeks flushed. He takes her hands and pulls her into his lap. He leans in close and drinks in her warm brown eyes.

"I love you," he whispers, and kisses her softly.

She kisses him back and pulls him close, running her hands in his hair. She presses her tongue against his lips and he opens his mouth to let her slip it in, a moan escaping as he does so. While they kiss, she moves about to straddle him like she's done so many times before.

His hands rub up her thighs and the combination his calloused hands on her and the feel of the fabric of his dress pants makes her moan and shiver. Her moan, along with the discovery as his hands inch higher that she indeed _isn't_ wearing anything but the gown, sends an ache and a tug through his body.

Smirking against her lips, he moves a hand down across her inner thigh and between her already spread legs.

"Dom!" She gasps, pulling back and gripping his shoulders when his fingers rub against her. Still, she spreads her legs wider by shifting her knees on the bed.

"Someone's eager tonight," he whispers huskily, rubbing her again making squeal.

"Don't stop," She breathes.

She bucks her hips against his hand and he moves his fingers faster. He groans when she bucks again, her hips grinding against his own in an attempt to press against his fingers. She moans louder and buries her face in his shoulder when he slips one of those fingers into her. Dom parts his own legs slightly to slide her down and away from him, giving him more room to move.

"Jesus, Dom," She yelps when he adds another finger.

Another minute and she cries out into his shoulder, clenching around him. He removes his fingers and lets her catch her breath. She finally sits up after a moment and smirks at him. She shoves him back onto his elbows and she works on his shirt, trailing kisses as she undoes buttons.

Once his shirt is undone, she slides off his legs and stands in front of him. Bending forward, she slowly undoes his trousers while keeping her eyes connected with his. She presses her palm up against him, making him snap his eyes shut and hiss.

She giggles mischievously and yanks his pants down. He lifts his hips as she pulls them off. Biting her lip and staring back at him, she kneels in front of him and strokes him with her hand, making him throw his head back and groan. She strokes him again but his hand grabs her own and moves it away.

"Not tonight," he breathes.

He sits up, throws off his shirt, and picks her up to place her on the bed.

"And why not?" She asks as he climbs over her.

"Don't ask questions," he mumbles, kissing her neck and pushing up her gown.

"If you insist," she sighs hazily.

He pushes up her gown further and she lifts up her arms to let him slide it off her. A breathy moan escapes his lips as his eyes scan over her, trying to memorize the sight of her spread out below him.

"Dom?" She asks smirking, snapping him from his thoughts.

He leans in and kisses her deeply, on hand propping him up and the other massaging it's away up her body. Ariadne moans and shuffles her legs as his hand lingers on her breast and he breaks away, kissing his way down to the other.

"Dom," she repeats over and over.

She starts rubbing her hands in his hair while pleasure shoots through her body. Then she rubs her legs together again and they graze him, sending his own jolt of pleasure coursing through him.

He can't hold himself back any longer; he lets her go and nudges her legs. They fall open on their own and he maneuvers himself to lie between her.

"Please," She whispers and that's all he needs to hear.

He reaches between them and slides into her, moans loudly escaping both their mouths. He gives her a second to let her relax before he slowly pulls back and pushes back again, testing the waters. She moans and pushes up her hips to meet him and he takes it as a sign to keep going.

Dom moves slow, whispering in her ear how beautiful she is and how much he loves her and he kisses her softly. His words fill her heart and his kisses fuel the fire he set coursing through her.

Soon, they're moving faster in a harmonious rhythm building up pleasure. One more kiss and a heated whisper is all it takes and she falls apart, crying out his name. Her cries and the feel of her clenching around her send him tumbling after her. He collapses, propped on his elbows to keep from completely crashing onto her. He pulls out and she moans softly at the loss.

They lay there, entangled in each other while they catch their breath. He shifts off her and holds her. He kisses the top of her head and that does it. Guilt washes over her and Ariadne can't hold it in any longer. She rolls over away from him and buries her face into the pillow while she cries.

It tears his heart out and he has so much he wants to tell her. He wants to tell her it's alright; that he doesn't mind. He wants to tell her that this doesn't make her a bad person. However, all he can do is wrap his arm around her and hold her while she cries. Because it _does_ matter; he _does_ mind; this _does_ make her a bad person.

But he loves her and if slipping into a dream to pretend to be someone he's not is what it takes to be with her; to make her happy; then Eames would pretend till the day he died.

* * *

**God. This has to be the saddest thing I've ever written and that's saying something... However, as many stories, once it gets in my head I have to write it. **

**Don't hate me too much.**

**Thanks for reading. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Just A Dream**

_ERGH... I'm being tag-teamed! Eames is whispering dirty things in my ear and Andrew is letting him! Revenge because I put him on probation! Gah. Men... I swear... They think it's funny to watch me squirm. _

_-sighs- I'm going to __**try**__ and block them out long enough to get this freakin A/N out._

_Alrighty. I wasn't going to expand because I loved the 'got cha' of the first part. However... being the nice person I am (and knowing that as I fan, I hate unfinished business) I decided to add this because it honestly helps me sleep at night._

_Also, I gave him the first name Jonathan; John for short (like John Doe: every unnamed man; yeah I'm corny and full of clichés). I thought about Jackson (the whole jack-of-all-trades thing) but it doesn't flow in my head as well._

_Enjoy._

* * *

They're awake now.

Ariadne, despite the fact she only cried in the dream, still had the ghost feel of puffy, red eyes. Sitting on the edge of the bed of the real hotel room, her back is turned to one person she can't look at whist she pulls the IV out her arm and checks her totem.

The sight of her totem makes her nauseous. Ever since she woke up and he wasn't there, she still had this one reminder of him. He was there when she made it; he was the one who told her how. She puts it away when it feels right.

"We can't do this anymore," she whispers staring at the carpet.

She finally twists to face him, but he won't look at her either. He's slowly putting away the PAVIS, staring down at it intently. He can't look at her; she'd know the truth if he did.

"Eames, this has to stop," she continues realizing he's not going to answer her. "I'm losing myself; I promised- I promised him-" She can't finish the sentence because the memory makes her choke and her eyes water.

He clicks the suitcase shut and he can feel her eyes burning on him, willing him to look at her. He keeps his head down, because he can't look at her; he won't look at her. What is he supposed to say? He can't tell her the truth.

This entire situation was his fault.

He never intended it to go this far. Eames had done it so many times before for so many different people that the count was lost in his head. It was only supposed to happen one time. He started it; he went to her, not the other way around.

It was just an idea that crossed his mind when he saw just how shattered she'd become after losing him. Arthur tried to comfort her, but being just as devastated as she was, he couldn't help her. If anything, they brought each other down further. Arthur didn't want his help, but Ariadne... she needed it; that's what Eames told himself.

"You can say goodbye to him," He whispered, "but we'll need a dream."

Ariadne knew what he was asking her and he remembers just how hopeful she looked when she nodded and agreed to the idea.

One dream was all she would need. They met at the abandoned warehouse and he remembers how she her eyes watered when she looked around. He set it up and put her under, following shortly after.

The first time, he didn't stay in character long.

It was only to say goodbye; that was the intention. Eames quickly became Dom and sat by her at a table on a curbside coffee shop that looked to be somewhere from downtown Paris.

"Ariadne?"

It was strange to hear his colleague speak again, especially when the voice came from his own lips. That was what he was there for however and it would just be that one time. She looked up at him and studied him for a moment.

"This is... surreal." She said, staring at him.

"Go along with it," Dom's voice said.

"Eames, this is silly," She muttered, "I know you're not _him_."

"Just go along with it."

"No, I won't Eames." She shook her head and tears fell down her face.

Her tears tugged at him in a way foreign to him. He shook it off; he had a job to do. Getting out of his chair, he walked over and knelt beside her, taking one of her hands in his.

"Ariadne, I'm leaving."

Her eyes shot open and she panicked.

"No! I'm sorry; just... let me get used to this."

He stared at her, shocked by her reaction. That wasn't what he meant at all. He meant Dom was leaving; he was trying to get her to see that. Then he lost it; he knew by the flash of shock in her eyes and the light ripple that made his skin crawl as he changed back.

"Bloody hell, Ariadne!" He cursed.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

Once again the foreign feeling shot through him.

"Darling, it's alight." He whispered, regretting losing his cool. He patted her hand, trying to reassure her as he stood up. "You're in shock; maybe this wasn't a good idea after all."

"Eames... we, we can try again. I'll just look away or-"

He cut her off by hooking his foot around the leg of her chair and pulled it out from under her. He woke with a start as the dream crumbled around him.

"Why did you do that?" She glared.

"Tomorrow," he mumbled, pulling the IV out. "We'll try again tomorrow."

"Why can't we just get it over with now?"

"Darling, building a dream is one thing; building an image is another. It's a draining task and trying again now will only end us up back were we left off."

Ariadne sighed and nodded. She felt a little embarrassed by showing her eagerness.

The next day, they tried again.

When she saw him, she broke down crying. Eames had to remind himself he was Dom and he needed to do what Dom would do. As awkward as it was for him, he hugged her and told her it would be alright, she just needed to let him go and move on.

"I don't think I want to," She whispered.

He frowned and pulled back to try to talk some sense into her. That was when she looked at him, her brown eyes wide with something more than hope. He didn't have time to process what it was when she stood on her toes and kissed him. The shock made him shove her, and she tripped on her own feet and fell backwards kicking them both out of the dream.

"_You love him_?" Eames asked her disbelievingly after a long silence once they woke.

But it shouldn't have surprised him. It all made sense now. The looks she gave Dom during the training, why she fought so hard to try and bring him back during the last moments of the job; how she nearly fainted when Arthur told her Dom was gone.

It all fell into place.

Her refusal to look him in the eye told him everything he needed to know. Eames should have stopped it right then. She was too attached; dreaming wasn't going to help her. If any, it would tumble her down a rabbit hole and she'd never come back. Then Ariadne looked up to meet his gaze and he actually felt ill from the torment he saw in them.

"Please Eames? Please, just... let me have him back one time."

He should have never said yes.

They took it slow; one hour dream time every other day. They both agreed it would end after two weeks. It was only so she could work up the courage to say good-bye. Of course, things never go as planned. She kissed him again the fourth time; he caved and let her and it spiraled from there.

That was over a year ago.

He'd stay awake at night, trying to trace through the memories, to find where he lost himself. Was it the time he woke up next to her and for a brief moment thought he really was Dom? Or the first time he crossed the line and told her he loved her? Maybe, it was the first time they made love and she'd said "Dom" and he didn't care.

"John?" She says and he snaps up to look at her.

Something, the widening of her eyes or maybe it's the way she frowns slightly; he knows she knows.

"We're losing ourselves," she whispers and she crawls on the bed to sit beside him.

"We lost ourselves along time ago, darling." He gives her a half smile, trying to make this better, to fix the damage done.

"I don't want to dream anymore."

She leans onto him and his eyes close. Memories flash before him and it kills him knowing all those loving looks weren't for him.

Ariadne knows he loves her.

She wants to tell him the truth; that she doesn't want to dream anymore because Dom is gone and she wants to accept it. She wants to kiss away all the hurt she caused him and show him she realizes all those kisses, the words, the love they made were real and she knows he meant it.

What she wants is forgiveness. What she wants to tell him is she knows now; she knows that Dom will never come back. But she also knows it's too late. The damage was done and he'd never forgive her. How could he?

"John," she whispers into his shoulder, "let's not dream anymore."

"It'd be for the best," he whispers back, trying to make himself believe his own words.

He moves to get off the bed but she holds onto him and he stays. She crawls onto his lap and he wonders if he has the strength to tell her he agrees and he won't do this anymore.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, "I'm so sorry." She leans in and kisses him, her tears wetting his cheek.

"Don't." He pulls his lips from hers.

"Please?" She asks, kissing his cheek and then along his jaw.

"This has to stop." He says but he can't make himself shove her away.

She's kissing his neck now, working her way down slowly. She always does this; she'll fuck Dom in a dream and wake guilty. To fight the guilt she'll fuck him and promise it'll be the last time.

But there's never a last time; he's not strong enough to push her away.

He'll lay her back onto the bed and he'll make love to her to try and make her see he's real; he's what she needs; all she'll ever need. She'll cry out; yell his name and tell him she loves him because she does.

But she loves Dom more.

They'll play the same game three, four days later. They always try to resist it, to make it the last time. Sometimes they can make it a week before breaking down.

They broke their promise; they lost themselves in just a dream.

* * *

_I tried to make it a happy ending... but as always, things never go as planned. _

_Thanks for reading!_


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